


The Whitewashed Villa

by melbell14ns



Category: Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2020-12-22 11:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melbell14ns/pseuds/melbell14ns
Summary: Jane goes with Mr. Rochester to the Mediterranean Villa





	1. Acceptance

Chapter 1

“Jane listen to me.” I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. My heart was still racing from the kisses I had allowed him to give me. Passionate kisses that would have filled my heart with delight had it truly been our wedding night. Instead it was a mockery of it. The firelight, the bed, his body pressing against mine with the evidence of how our immodest actions had affected him it was all too much. I took a deep breath as he stammered and then paused, making sure I was listening.  
“We will live as brother and sister.We’d have our separate chambers, come together in the afternoons, for tea, or to play bowls, something sedate and traditional.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I give you my word, I wouldn’t touch. Maybe, a chaste peck on the cheek on birthdays. I wouldn’t tempt you into a life of sin Jane. I wouldn’t do that.”  
I let out the breath had been holding. His hand was between my own and pressed my lips to it. Foolish man. Dear, dear foolish Edward. I closed my eyes, I felt to refuse outright would be foolhardy at this moment. We were both so feverish. Instead I replied,  
“I must rest now.” Rising, away from his embrace.  
“Yes,” He said his voice gentle but disappointed, willing to be patient. I turned and his gaze was one of absolute tenderness. It broke my heart. “Yes you must rest.” He stood and I followed him to the door.  
“We’ll talk in the morning.” I promised as I opened it.  
“Yes in the morning.” His voice had an eagerness to it. He went through the doorway and then turned around. He looked like a small child.  
“You will think about the villa?” He asked.  
I gave him a small smile, “We’ll talk in the morning.”  
With that I closed the door. As soon as I heard his footsteps retreating down the hallway I sprung into action. With small handkerchief I bound up what little I felt I had rightful claim to. I picked my parcel and felt a small pang at the lightness of it. It would have to do.  
I came across the pearls that had been picked for me, that I worn for so short a time. Those were not mine. They were for some extinct breed, killed by truth. I looked to the window. The night was still dark and stood there, waiting, wondering what the merit would be leaving now or waiting for dawn. I would need time to walk and dawn would not give me that. My frayed nerves jumped as I unlocked the door, the click sounding deafening to my ears. I peered out into the dark and saw nothing. Slowly I picked my way down the corridor. I saw and heard no one but as I turned the corner I saw a light spilling out from under the doorway. It was Mr. Rochester's room. I would have to pass it in order to make my way down the stairway. Holding my breath I silently made my way towards the light. As I reached it I paused. I could hear him pacing within.  
Oh my Edward, waiting for day to break and he could send for me. My handed glided towards the lock but I drew it back. I stood there frozen as a statue in the pool of light. Behind me lay my room empty and quiet, in front of me lay the staircase, it’s opening a yawning mouth of some terrifying beast that would swallow me whole and beside me was the only happiness I had ever known.  
If I could have but only a fraction of Samson’s strength! My resolve, weakened by the day, lack of rest and food, and terror of the unknown life in front of me, broke. I could not move myself an inch forward. The villa, my supposed Eden, swam before my eyes as tears fell thick and fast down my cheeks. I could not leave.  
“God forgive me.” My heart cried. I turned, and slowly walked back towards my room. The tears had dried by the time I returned. I stood there for a moment and then steeled myself. I had made the choice. My bed was made and I was to lay in it and so I did. I fell asleep only moments after laying down.  
I woke up the next day. The sunlight shone through the window and I could hear the birds singing. I rose, dressed, and waited patiently. The expected knock came and I unlatched the door. It was Mrs. Fairfax. I could see her lips were pressed in a thin line.  
“The Master would have you meet him in the drawing room after breakfast.”  
I nodded, “Thank you, Mrs. Fairfax. I will be down presently.”  
“Dear child.” She began and I looked into her eyes and saw her fear. I lay a reassuring hand on her own.  
“All will be well.” I said smiling and brushed past her.  
I ate quickly. Adele was not at the table with me and when I inquired, was told she had been sent outside with Sophie for the morning. Alone, I ate with ravenous hunger having not eaten anything since the day before yesterday. With my strength returning as did my resolve to see through my decision.  
The study door was closed but before I could raise my hand to knock it opened. Mr. Rochester filled the doorway and once he saw it was me, stood back and let me pass inside. He shut the door behind me and I sat unbidden in an armchair. He sat down across from me, his entire being focused on me.  
“How are you this morning Jane?” He asked  
“I am better sir.” I said, folding my hands in my lap. He then stood rapidly. He paced in front of me.  
“Have you, do you-” He stopped stuttering, he seemed terrified to push me further.  
“I have thought about it.” I said and he leaned forward, “I will go with you to the villa as your sister.”  
He let out a breath and nodded. “Thank you Jane, yes.” He stood and kneeled in front of me.  
“I give you my promise.” He said taking my hands in his. “I will not tempt you.” He turned my hands over and kissed the palms. His head bowed over my lap and then lifted towards me. I reached a hand up and cupped his cheek, my thumb sliding the length of the bone.  
“That will be a promise we will both keep.”  
Mr. Rochester nodded and stood. He held his hand out. “We will start our preparations.”  
I took his hand and stood. Walking towards the door and my future.


	2. Travel

It was three months before I departed for the Mediteranean. Mr. Rochester left the day after I agreed to go with him. We did not see each other again since that meeting. He had instructed me to go about my daily routine in teaching Adele and to reveal nothing. I did as he asked, my own desire for secrecy matched his. 

During those months I found a school for Adele that I deemed a good match for the child and, through Mrs. Fairfax, communicated to Mr. Rochester of it. He sent back word of his approval and, with it, the final plans for her were complete. I also had communication from him, again through Mrs. Fairfax, the good lady was all too happy to have direct contact between Mr. Rochester and I kept at a minimum, that he had found me a new station. This false direction I supposed was given for the benefit of everyone else. 

So I kept up with the charade and waited. What do you suppose my feelings were? I was not unhappy, but I was uneasy. My decision had come at a price, that I knew all too well but, could it, I mean to say was my debt able to be absolved through my own will? I did not know. It was like walking a tightrope and if I should but lean to one side or the other I would plummet. But press on to the end I would. 

Adele presently, went to school. I sent her off myself, covered with kisses and tears that were not wholly from the sweet little creature. I watched her go with pangs of sadness, wondering when I would indeed see her again. 

With Adele gone, it was time for my own departure. Mr. Rochester had given word of my new position, a same Mrs. Dionysius O’Gall of Bitternut Lodge in Ireland that he had told me of four months before. I suppose it was his way of showing me in secret code that this was not real but indeed a false lead that I would recognize. 

I began to set my things in order. I left the clothes and the jewelry that Mr. Rochester had graced his girl bride. That bride was not I. While I was packing, I came across my wedding gown. It hung in the back of the wardrobe where I had put it that ill fated day. I left that as well, I was no bride, nor ever would be. 

My journey, when I did finally leave Thornfield, was a tiring one. It was winter and the travel over land and sea much chilled me. I had never been on a boat and the rough waters, bilious smoke from the stacks, and icy gales did little to endear it to me. 

I did take a moment to stand at the rail, perhaps a touch unsteadily, and bid farewell to my native shores. I watched as they disappeared in the cold winter mist and was gone. Almost as if a curtain was descending on that chapter of my life. 

I was on that ship for three days. The crew, a majority French, English, and Italian kept to themselves. Fellow passengers as well kept their distance, everyone preferring to stay to their own bunks rather than risk being tossed about on the seas. Mr. Rochester had booked me my own cabin which I kept to for the majority of my journey feeling rather ill. It was with great relief when, on the third day, Le Havre was spotted and we were docked. 

I now stood for the first time on this foreign soil and looked about me. Others rushed around me without one glance in my direction. I began to wonder what my next step was. Was someone to come for me or was I to inquire? I began to move towards what looked like a clerk's office to ask for directions when I heard a familiar voice call my name.

“Jane Eyre!” It was Mr. Rochester. I turned and searched eagerly for the voice. He had come! I finally caught sight of him through the crowd. His hat was and he was waving to me, when he saw that I had seen him, replaced it onto his head. I stayed where I was as he made his way through the crowd. My heart, which lept at the sight of him, was not recovered by the time he reached me.

“You’ve come at last Jane.” He said reaching me. There was a smile on his lips and his eyes were searching mine earnestly. I smiled up at him but inwardly steadied myself. I kept myself on my guard. These first few moments would test how well Mr. Rochester would keep his word and I mine.

“It is good to see you sir.” I said and that did much to check his enthusiasm. I saw him pause and remember and his smile softened. 

“You must be tired Jane.” He said, “Come, I have a hotel for the night we have a long day of travel ahead of us tomorrow.” 

He led me through the docks and my eyes were drawn to all around me. I had never seen so many people in one place before. I caught sight of cargo and people from the east. 

“It’s like the whole world is here in a glimpse.” I said. 

Mr. Rochester chuckled and slowed down so that I could observe more from the ships. Slowly, we reached the carriage that waited for us. A servant leapt down, dressed in the sigil of the hotel, and opened the door for us. Mr. Rochester held out a hand to help me in. I took it and, even through my glove, could feel his warmth. 

The carriage shut us away from the bustling world and began to move. I sat across from him and my hands were folded in my lap. I did not know where to look. 

“I thought you might not come.” He spoke his voice quiet. His face was trained on the floor and he glanced up at me. 

“I have come sir, as you can see.”

“Are you real Jane?” He asked raising his thick eyebrows. “I feel as if this is one of my dreams.”

He had dreamt of me? I wondered if they were like mine, which had far too often strayed back to the memories of the night he had asked me to come to the villa with him. This was dangerous. 

“I can’t imagine a dream being this detailed.” I replied glancing out the window to the street that we rode along. 

“No, I suppose not.” He said and a silence fell between us. It was an uneasy one that I was not accustomed to with him. The minutes dragged on and I finally said,

“Sir-”

“Edward.” He interrupted me firmly. My surprise must have shown on my face because he took a breath and softened his tone. “Jane, if we are to live as brother and sister we should address each other as equals. Will you allow that?” He asked. 

I pressed my hands together “I will allow that, when I can remember it.”

He smiled, in that way of his, that was both triumphant and pleased. 

The coach arrived at the hotel. We alighted and Edward escorted me into the grand building. It was a level of opulence that I could only describe as French. The gilded moulding and crystal chandelier set off the grand high ceiling. The voices echoing off the marble floors made the room cavern like. One could fancy they had stumbled into the cave of Ali Baba and the forty thieves. 

“It’s a grand place is it not?” Mr. Rochester whispered into my ear as he directed me up the staircase. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” I murmured truthfully. 

Up the flight of stairs we went and down a long hallway rich with similar decorations accented with heavy purple drapes lined windows. Mr. Rochester’s suite was in the east wing and a maid came and greeted us as we walked in. 

“This is mademoiselle?” She asked curtsying. 

“Indeed Marion, this is Miss Eyre.”

“How do you do?” I asked in French. She was a sweet cherubic little thing of about thirty and she smiled at my French.

“I am well mademoiselle, if you please, allow me to show you to your chamber so that you may rest before dinner.” 

I gratefully followed her into a set of rooms set aside for me. There, for the first time in three days, I was able to bathe properly and dress neatly. I rested for an hour or so before I was roused by Marion bidding me to come and have dinner. 

I found Mr. Rochester on a settee and he stood as I entered the room. Close to the window, dinner was laid out and we took our seats. I could see the city out of the window and marveled aloud of the view. 

“You’ll see quite a different scene in a days time.” Mr. Rochester replied. 

“What is it like Edward?” I asked.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It is secluded and one with nature Jane. You wake up every morning to the sounds of the ocean against the rocks and sand. The house is on a small cliff that overlooks the trees and the water. The birds Jane, you can hear in the trees as they sing to each other. In the winter it is cooler, not so arctic as our own English winters, but during the day it is pleasant to walk along the shore. Do you think that a fine thing Jane?” 

“I do sir.” I said. He raised his eyebrows and I corrected myself, “Edward.” I gave him a half serious glare that he laughed at. It seemed to lessen the tension between us and I felt myself grow more at ease. 

The clock struck and the sun had disappeared over the horizon. The city was still lit however with thousands of lamps. Mr. Rochester stood and rang the bell.

“We shall be leaving early tomorrow Jane. Marion will wake you but until then we shall rest. Are you ready for an adventure Jane?” He looked down at me.

“I am ready.” I said and stood. He bowed as he said goodnight and I left him. Marion helped me into bed, something I hoped I would not have to become accustomed to as I was used to preparing my own toilet. As I drifted off to sleep I felt a bit more easy. We had made it through what I hoped was one of the hardest parts. We had kept our promise and now we must continue to keep it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

We rose early that morning before dawn and had left the hotel in the carriage. We left not towards the docks but further inland following the road across the country. Even with the dark, the whole city had hardly quieted and I could see bobbing lanterns and figures in the moonlight busily beginning their day. Mr. Rochester, instead of riding in the carriage, had mounted Mesrour and would ride alongside. He leaned beside the window encouraged me to get some rest while I could. I was still tired from the previous journey and didn’t need much persuasion to lean my head against the cushioned wall of the carriage and drift as the scenes slowly changed to charming countryside.   
My hands were itching for a pencil and, during a brief stop at the inn, asked the driver to fetch down my small case to retrieve a sketchbook and the aforementioned pencil. I saw Mr. Rochester smile,  
“What scenes does Jane Eyre have in her head?” He asked as he helped me into the carriage   
“Grecian inspired,” I mused, “ones that will bring me nothing but frustration once I try and convey them to paper.”  
“A true Greek tragedy.” He said somberly, his voice belaying the grin on his face. I felt my own smile and responded by halfway pulling the shade down. A gesture that had him let out a bark of laughter before he remounted.   
I drew throughout the day. My mind was now so occupied that the day passed quickly. Once the sun began to set, I began looking for lights with some earnestness. 

The first sight I caught of the villa was sudden. I had been observing with delight the glow of the moon on the sea when we rounded a corner and Mr. Rochester slowed beside the carriage as we drew into sight. It was a full moon and the white of the villa gleamed in the moonlight. It was a relief to see it as well as it promised a permanent end to the carriage. 

I studied the building as well as I could in the dark. It seemed not half so large as Thornfield. I could see some lights lit within and some smaller white buildings here and there whose purpose was uncertain. As we drew nearer I could make out columns flanking the front entrance which faced away from the sea. The whole building appeared to be floating on the ocean but was indeed situated on an outlook that rose above the sea below.   
“Do you like it?”   
Mr. Rochester had dismounted and was at the window. In the lamplight his face was half shadow.   
“It’s beautiful.”   
“I’ll take you on a tour of the property tomorrow. There’s a bit more to see of the house and the grounds in the daylight.”  
The carriage came to a stop in the front entrance. The arches and colums gave the front of the house a high lofty gleam. A man of about forty opened the door and approached the carriage.   
“Monsieur Rochester.” He said stiffly.  
“Armand.” Mr. Rochester said as he dismounted and turned to help me. The man was unsurprised at my presence, I supposed him to be the butler and my suspicions were confirmed when Mr. Rochester introduced him as such. I nodded and greeted him in French. He seemed to give my person little merit and after a nod gestured to a few other men who had arrived to take the cases.   
Mr. Rochester escorted me inside. It seemed as soon as he crossed the threshold a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He sighed deeply and threw back his traveling cloak. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair and gave a quick glance around the room. The master ensuring that all was as he wished it to be.   
A maid, a slip of a girl who very much reminded me of Sophie came forward to take the cloak from Mr. Rochester and to help me with my own.   
“It’s too late to give you a proper tour of the place Jane but Bette here will be your maid. If there is anything you require she will assist.” Mr. Rochester said.  
I hardly thought that I would require a maid often but smiled and greeted Bette. She received me more warmly than Armand as she smiled and curtsied to the both of us.   
“Are you much tired?” Mr. Rochester asked as she left to assist in our baggage  
“I am sir, was there something you needed?”   
“I can tell you’re tired for you seem to have forgotten that we are equals and address me as sir!”   
“We are not equals, Edward. Not in the eyes of society.” I said as he prepared a candle.   
“Damn society.” Was his retort. He held it and looked at me his eyebrows tucked together.   
“This house, the grounds, everything in it is half yours to do with as you wish. Everything I have you now share in. We are not of one blood but, your spirit is so akin to mine that anything of mine is yours. Whatever you desire.” There was a passing moment between us, his face aglow in the candlelight and his look half savage. I was strongly reminded of the night he had proposed and for a fleeting instant I had forgotten where I was. Then he turned and I took a moment to compose myself. No answer rose readily to my lips. I found myself heartily disliking being unable to answer without worrying that I was bringing up the past and therefore reminding us of what could have been. How I would have been entering these doors as a true mistress of the house and not just a guest, however equal he said I was, none of this was mine in the eyes of the law. That I felt I couldn’t answer him frankly was truly a discomfort.   
He seemed to sense my discomfort and turned, the candle was lowered and his appearance softened.   
“Come, I want to show you your room.”   
I took his offered arm and we acended the stairs. The look of the villa extended to the inside. Where the heavy wood paneling would have stifled one with heat, the cool marble and high ceilings gave lightness. Tapestries and rugs were abundant to add color and warmth. The artwork was masterful, but rarely showed human subjects, instead favoring animals, landscapes, and mythical scenes.  
My room was at the end of a short hall. The candles has already been lit for our arrival and the effect was one of a softly lit ethereal haven.   
It was more a small series of rooms making up an apartment then a simple bedchamber. A desk, settee, and arm chairs made a sitting area. Through an arched doorway was a dressing area. It was large enough that I felt it would more than swallow my own wardrobe.   
The bed chamber itself had high vaulted ceilings. There were doors that Mr. Rochester said led to a balcony that overlooked the sea. I could hear it through the glass. The bed itself was mahogany with white linen. The posts of it held thin gauzy curtains. I felt a strange ache rise in me as I looked. Edward had stayed in the doorway as I entered the room and I turned to look at him. His mouth was slightly open and his chest rose deep and fast. My own color rose and I realized that this is what would have been my bridal chamber.   
“What now Jane?” He asked, his voice low, rough.   
I needed something to ground me. I cast a net for something, anything to keep me from acting rashly.   
“How do I send for Bette? I think I should go to bed.”  
The spell broke and Mr. Rochester showed me a rope to pull to call for her. Within moments she had arrived and began to unpack my trunk for me. Something I tried to tell her I would prefer to do myself but she shooed me and continued. I looked at Mr. Rochester exasperated but he just laughed.  
“You’ll have to get used to having a maid Jane. French lady’s maids can be the most zealous in the service.”   
I glared at him over Bette’s shoulder and he laughed again.   
“I’ll take my leave Jane. I have bussiness to attend to in the morning, but I will see you for tea and then I will show your new home.”   
He left, his jovial chuckles could be heard down the hallway. For the second night in a row, I was helped into bed. Bette was firm in helping me and all of my protests in both English and French fell on deaf ears. This would be a challenge.   
She helped me into bed like an invalid and drew the curtains across the doorway to the balcony.   
“No don’t please, I want to see the sea when I wake.”   
She acquiesced, muttering in French that it would wake me too early and the sun would be bad for my skin. But she bid me goodnight pleasantly enough. The candles blown out, I could see the moon reflect on the sea and I sat up in bed to watch. This could not be so bad as I feared and I hoped the hardest part was now over. We could now be like brother and sister and see each other on a day to day schedule. How has he said it? Sedate and traditional? I could manage that. I lay down and allowed the sound of the ocean to lull me into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fanfic I have had on my mind for about 12 years now. I first read Jane Eyre when I was a kid and then I saw the 2006 version a few years later and loved it. I have always wanted to write an AU where Jane stayed and went with him to the villa as he proposed. I plan on updating every Thursday.


End file.
